


Mutualism

by Amaryills



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Reality, And Neville but thats a whole thing, Dark Harry Potter, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Limited Bashing, Making up rules about magic, WBWL, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter), except for Harry Obviously, trying to keep everyone in character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 03:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18651676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaryills/pseuds/Amaryills
Summary: The night Voldemort died he didn't split off a piece of his soul, but rather the whole of his remaining self was sucked into the forehead of one Rose Potter. Growing up with the spirit of the Dark Lord in your brain isn't exactly a healthy motivation factor for a child, but as she grows, both of them decide that this could be a mutually beneficial relationship. OC





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I found this fic on my computer when I was cleaning it up and figured I'd post it! Bit of a heads up that it'll be a bit dark and messed up. I wanted to write a dark harry potter without switching the light/dark dichotomy. 
> 
> I'm working on a lot of fics so I'll update this one when I have the time, but Im not gonna promise a regular update schedule :(. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.

July 31st, 1980

James Potter was pacing nervously in the waiting room of St. Mungo's hospital. Albus had thought it unsafe, and had suggested a home birth, safe under the Fidelius charm, but James had been adamant that his child be born in a hospital. What if something went wrong? With the anti-apparition wards and lack of connection to the floo network they wouldn't be able to get to St. Mungos. No it wouldn't do. He demanded the safest and best for the birth of his child.

He heard a piercing scream fill the room and a bunch of people lifted their heads, before turning back to their newspapers. James wrung his hands, sweating nervously. Lily had broken through the silencing charms several times now - burst of accidental magic like that were common during childbirth - or at least that's what he'd been told while he was being ushered from the room with a broken arm.

"James, mate." Sirius walked up to him, patting his shoulders, "She's fine, okay? It can't be long now."

James knew that. He knew that any minute it would all be over, and he was going to be a father.

Oh merlin. A Father.

"I'm gonna throw up." James groaned, collapsing in a chair and bending over, holding his head between his knees.

He heard a chuckle to his left and looked up to glare at the man.

Frank Longbottom. The man had an audacity to laugh at him after the right mess he'd been just the day before. His own wife was currently a few doors down, nursing their newborn boy. He'd also opted for a hospital birth, and James knew that later in the day they would go into hiding of their own. James had a feeling it would be a while before he saw either of the Longbottom's again.

Remus wasn't there. With the war as bad as it was, things were becoming very difficult for his werewolf friend in public. He wasn't sure where Peter was. He been there earlier but the sounds of screaming woman going through labour had made him queasy and he seemed to have run off - probably to find something to eat. James knew he could depend on him to return in an hour or so with enough sandwiches and treats for all of them to celebrate the arrival of his child.

"We've come up with a name." Frank said suddenly, obviously trying to distract James, "Neville. Named after my grandfather - he was a great man. Neville Longbottom. Good strong name."

James nodded absentmindedly. He wrung his hands, thinking of the names he and Lily had decided.

Lily had been determined to use her family naming traditions - and James, of course, couldn't deny her anything. If it was a boy, his middle name would be James. Apparently naming the first born boy after their father was a family tradition, and her sister had named her own child Dudley Vernon.

He wrinkled his nose. Dudley - what a horrid name.

And if it was a girl, she would continue with her families floral design. This James loved, and he'd gone over several possible names. Eventually they'd decided on Briar-Rose, or just Rose for short. He'd suggested Hazel for Witch's Hazel but Lily had just tweaked him on the nose, commenting that Hazel was a colour not a flower.

James, of course, had his own say. If he had a boy, he would name him after his grandfather Henry, the last Potter to sit on the Wizengamot and a champion of Muggle rights. His grandpa Harry had always been a blast to be around, but had died when James was very young. 

At first James had wanted to name his son Fleamont, after his father who died only a few months earlier - but Lily had quickly veto'd it. Instead, James had decided that if it was a girl her middle name would be Euphemia, after his grandmother.

Harry James Potter

Briar-Rose Euphemia Potter.

He wrinkled his nose as he realized what a mouthful of a name his daughter would have. Goodness what were they thinking? They would have to change something, the poor girl...

"Mr. Potter?"

James leapt to his feet, his nausea forgotten in his haste to find who had spoken. What was it? Had something gone wrong? Was Lily alright? Was the baby okay?

There was a healer standing in the doorway, wearing the horrid lime green aprons with the St.Mungo's crest on it, smiling wildly.

James let his breathe escape him in relief as he rushed over, letting her lead him back into the room. He burst inside, expecting the worst.

Lily was laying in bed, looking pale and exhausted. There were dark bags under her eyes, her hair was half up in a ratted messy bun and there was still sweat on her brow. But she was simply beaming as a healer was slowly dropping their newborn baby into her arms.

"It's a girl." The healer told him quietly, and James felt his chest swell up with pride.

He had a girl. A baby girl. 

He rushed over to his wife, and Lily looked up at him with her bright green eyes, filling with tears of what he hoped was joy and not residual pain. She looked so beautiful that he forced himself to memorize her face in this moment, so he could remember it for the rest of his life.

"A girl." Lily gasped, crying lightly as she held the small baby in her arms, "And, Merlin, look. She already has your hair."

Lily was right. Baby Briar-Rose Potter already had a mess of black hair on her head. Her eyes were squinty, but from what little he could see was a milky blue. He remembered reading in one of the baby books Lily had bought that newborns often had blue or grey eyes when born, which then settled into their natural colour as they grew.

He hoped she would have Lily's eyes.

"Briar-Rose Euphemia Potter." Lily said out loud, holding her in her arms as the baby squinted up at her mother

James forgot everything he had been thinking in the waiting room. It was a perfect name - a little wordy perhaps, but it was her name. The name of their baby girl.

With reluctance, James and Lily Potter eventually allowed the nurse to take their daughter away, so that they could rest. Lily fell asleep almost immediately, and James kissed her forehead, wandering out to find a place to sleep, knowing that tomorrow would be a busy day.

For a moment he thought about the prophecy. He had never had much stock in Divination, but Albus had been convinced, and James trusted the old man. Could his little baby girl really be the downfall of the greatest dark wizard of all time? He sure hoped not - she was so small, so innocent. Nothing as evil and tainted as Voldemort should ever touch her.

And besides. She was only a baby. She wouldn't be fighting anybody for many, many years to come

***

August 27th, 1979

Severus Snape wasn't looking to change the fate of the war as he stepped into the Hog's head for a well needed drink. He had only just finished his long examination for his Potion's Mastery, and after a long gruelling five years it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

He could have gone to a much better establishment, but he wanted peace and quiet. The school term hadn't started yet, so the quaint village of Hogsmeade was empty, with only the actual inhabitants milling around, shopping for various food and goods. But even they wouldn't come into the Hogshead, preferring the warm and welcoming Three Broomsticks with their bright open spaces and buxom owner Madame Rosmerta.

Snape hated it there. It brought back bad memories of his school years and the students he attended with. He wrinkled his nose and walked into the dark pub. There was only two other customers - an older man missing all his teeth, chewing on some kind of leaf as he drink from a large mug of Goblin ale - and a young woman in a strange getup, with large bottle-cap glasses and frizzy hair drinking what looked like a cup of tea.

Snape ignored both of them and walked up to the bar, ordering a strong drink and sitting, smiling lightly to himself. He had done very well. He knew he would receive his Mastery, and would be the youngest to do so. Yes, he was very pleased.

And he would be pleased as well.

Snape smirked to himself lightly. Lord Voldemort treasures those most useful to him. Lucius Malfoy, who contributed millions towards the war effort and had half the ministry in his front pocket. Bellatrix Lestrange, a prodigy in her own right with a particular penchant for torture curses. And now Severus Snape, a half-blood with a potions mastery.

He took a long draw of the firewhiskey, drinking a silent salute to his lord. 

There was a jingle at the door and Snape half turned to see who had entered.

He felt all the blood leave his face as Albus Dumbledore himself walked into the bar. Snape swallowed, and doubled checked to make sure his left forearm was good and covered. As far as he was aware, nobody knew that he had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters, and he would like to be sure that it remained that way.

But Dumbledore wasn't interested in him, instead he was wandering over to the strangely dressed woman with the bottle glasses, the same jovial attitude that annoyed Snape so much.

"Ah, Sybil!" Dumbledore wandered over to the woman, "Thank you for meeting me. Apologies for the tardiness."

The woman stood, "It's no matter, I saw it in the leaves." She motioned to her empty cup which Snape noticed in humour had a tea bag in it, not loose tea leaves. 

"Fantastic, well let's take this somewhere a bit more private, hmm?"

Snape let out a breathe as Dumbledore took the woman down the hall that lead into the various rooms that Pub had, but most often didn't use. 

Dumbledore was a different beast. They said he was the only one his Lord feared, but Snape wasn't certain. He'd never seen fear when Voldemort spoke about the old headmaster, just unbridled hatred. The kind of hatred that went beyond being on opposite sides of a war, but seemed a far more personal hatred. The fiery kind of rage that settled deep in your gut when you even thought of the person.

He wondered how pleased his Lord would be if he got something good on Dumbledore.

Snape froze, his eyebrows furrowing as he glanced down at the cup in front of him. He would be rewarded, greatly. He smirked to himself as he thought about the sour looks on Lucius and Bellatrix's faces when they saw their Lord celebrating a Half-Blood. 

Snape tilted his head, drowned his drink and turning to the old bar keep, asking where the restroom was. Thankfully he pointed down the same hall Dumbledore had wandered down and he nodded, tossing a few sickles down for his drinks and walking to the restroom.

As he walked back through the hall he quickly cast a spell of his own making to hide the sound of his footsteps. He listened as he walked, trying to spot the room that Dumbledore had wandered into. He wondered if the old professor would bother put up any silencing charms of his own as he walked through the darkly lit hall.

Finally he heard a shrill giggle and he smirked to himself, zeroing in on a door at the end of the hall which had the door opened an inch. Snape snorted, the door wasn't even closed?

As he approached he could hear the voices more clearly, and he kept dangerously still as he leaned against the wall nearest the door, listening quietly.

"I must say." Dumbledore spoke, "It's good luck that you contacted me. I was just about to give up and remove it from the curriculum this year."

"No, no, no luck." The woman spoke with an airy voice, "I saw your need of course. My crystals had been acting up all summer and I couldn't quite place it. But once I interpreted their message I contacted you as fast as possible. It wouldn't do to not teach the students one of the most important magical arts."

Snape rolled his eyes. A divination teacher. He never took the class himself, he doubted he had the sight and he had better things to do than drink tea and hallucinogens and try to interpret his own highs.

"Of course, that must explain it then." Dumbledore spoke cheerfully, "Well everything seems in order. Of course you'll be free to use the north tower for your class and there's living quarters that I hope will be up to your standards. Classes start on September first and....Sybil?"

Snape had felt rather annoyed by the boring job interview. He'd been hoping to hear something interesting to bring his Lord. But the worry that suddenly entered his voice pipped his attention and he leaned closer to the open door to listen.

"Sybil, are you alright."

The woman spoke again, her voice thick and dark. It sounded forced, like the words were literally forcing their way past her lips.

'The one with the power to defeat the Dark lord Approaches, born to those who've thrice defied him, born as the seventh month die. The dark lor-"

"What do you think you're doing, sonny!"

Snape umped, turning with wide eyes to see the barkeep glaring at him. He hissed as the man, surprisingly strong for his age, gripped his robes and dragged him back out into the pub, and then outside into the road.

Severus Snape stumbled a little bit, looking to the world a drunk who'd been thrown out of the local pub. But his mind was reeling. What had that been? She'd been interviewed for divination - had it been a prophecy? Was it real? Or fake?

Either way, the Dark Lord would want to know. 

Before the barkeep could get Dumbledore and inform him of the spy outside the door, Snape turned on the spot and disapparated.

***

Voldemort was silent.

The air was tense as the small group of death eaters waited silently for his reaction. Severus Snape, the young half blood potion prodigy, was kneeling in front of him, his head bowed low as he waited for his master's reaction.

He ran the words over and over in his brain, feeling incensed that the man had been caught before hearing the entire thing. Prophecies were usually vague, and had the annoying habit of being self fulfilling. 

Bt the content was disturbing. Someone who could defeat him. That was....unfortunate. A child from the sound of it, one that hadn't been born yet.

But he didn't know the rest of the prophecy. Could he risk acting on it?

Could he risk not?

He was so close to victory. Half the Ministry was his, thanks to Lucius Malfoy. It wouldn't be long until Bagnold was his, or her successor. It mattered little to him. He couldn't afford to leave anything to chance, and this Prophecy was a gamble he couldn't afford.

"End of July?" Nott spoke out loud, breaking the silence. "There's got to be hundred born then..."

"It said approached." Barty Crouch pointed out, probably one of his most intelligent death eaters, "Who's all expecting."

Voldemort saw several members stiffen in anxiety.

"Malfoy." Bellatrix gave him a deadly grin, "Isn't Cissy expecting?"

"Due in June." Lucius replied quickly.

"Parkinson." Nott listed off, "Crabbe and Goyle. My wife is as well."

"I doubt it'll be one of our own." Malfoy snorted, "Who else."

Nobody noticed Snape stiffen at Voldemort's feet.

"The Longbottoms." Goyle grunted, "Marissa saw Alice Longbottom in the ward. Greengrass, Potter and Bones. Abbott as well. Haven't seen Weasley but she's about due to pop another one out innit she."

There was a round of laughter, but Voldemort ignored it, finding the joke uncouth.

"Malfoy." He spoke for the first time since Snape had delivered the news. Everyone wen silent as they turned to their master, waiting for his response, "I need to know who is expecting in Late July or early August."

Malfoy nodded, bowed, and spun on the spot.

Voldemort tilted his head. His followers would expect a pureblood, and most likely look into the Abbotts, Greengrass's, Wealsey's or Longbottoms - all Light families and members of the Sacred Twenty Eight. The Bones were a half blood family, and the Potter child would be as well. He supposed there was always the chance of a Mudblood, but he didn't dare voice those thoughts in front of this group. He earned their support as a hater of Mudbloods as well as muggles. No, he couldn't be defeated by anything less than the purest of blood. And to them, there was nobody with blood purer than his.

"Check the Smith's." Voldemort spat, thinking about Hepzibah. He didn't know if the current Smiths were related but he didn't want to take the chance, "And the McLaggens'." Both families ere said to be descended from founders, but there wasn't much to back these claims up.

There was a nod and Crabbe and Goyle vanished.

"Severus Snape." Voldemort spoke, smirking down at his follower in a closest thing to a smile he could get to, "You have done well."

Reaching out with his mind he could feel a burst of pleasure at the recognition coming from the man, followed by a brief glimpse of worry.

Voldemort ignored it and quickly dismissed his death eaters. They would find the child soon enough. And then he would dispose if them, quickly.

The whole thing left a sour taste in his mouth, which in itself was unsatisfactory. He'd never felt hesitant to kill before. But then again, he'd never felt the need to kill children, infants. They weren't a threat to him. Killing babies was for the weak, insecure.

But he was so close...he couldn't take the risk. It would be fast, and quick.

He leaned back in the ornate chair at the head of the long table, looking over his plans.

Yes, it wouldn't be long now.

***

October 15th, 1981

Lily Potter was exhausted.

She had collapsed on the couch, groaning lightly as she reached behind her to dig out a child's toy that she'd sat on, tossing it aside. She'd only just gotten Rose to sleep. The poor girl was experiencing a bit of separation anxiety, and she was sure that the tense atmosphere of the home wasn't helping.

She knew that James was getting increasingly annoyed with the solitude. He wanted to fight, it just wasn't in his nature to hide and wait. He was becoming antsy.

Lily felt it too. She hated staying inside. She longed to take Rose outside - to the local park and to spend time with other children her own age. The war was starting to feel never ending, and Voldemort only grew stronger. She wondered how much longer they'd be in hiding. A year? Five Years? A decade? Or would they spend the rest of their lives hiding. Hiding Rose from the monster who wanted her dead.

"Lily?"

Lily turned to see James wander into the room, his hair still wet from the shower and glasses perched on his nose.

"Rose is asleep." Lily said softly, smiling as he walked over and sat down beside her, wincing as he pulled out yet another toy. 

"Peter's coming by." James said suddenly, a frown on his face.

Lily felt her heart jump to her throat. Peter was their only contact with the outside world, he usually showed up once ever other week to give them news. Every time he came Lily prayed he brought news of Voldemort's death or defeat and that they were free to come out of hiding.

She stood up, starting to grab various toys and tossing them into the toy chest in the corner.

"Come on Lils." James chuckled, "Wormy doesn't care about the mess."

Lily ignored him, working to clean up the living room. She knew he wouldn't care, but she was now a bundle of nervous energy, all previous exhaustion seemed to have left as they waited for Peter.

A few moment that there was a nervous knock at the door.

James leapt up, wandering over to the door. He hesitated on the other side and called out, "Who's there."

"It's me James."

James relaxed, but continued to ask the question they'd prepared, "What's Remus' animagus form?"

"He doesn't have one, he's a werewolf."

James immediately opened the door and beamed, but something on the other side made him startle. "Wormy?"

Lily frowned and wandered over, blinking in surprise to see, not only Peter, but Alice and Frank. Alice was holding Baby Neville in her arms - a small chubby baby with a tuft of brown hair and was sucking on his fist as he slept. She had tears running down her face and Frank was rubbing her back.

"What happened?" Lily asked, a dread sinking into her stomach.

Peter was twitching, his eyes going back and forth for enemies as he ushered the Longbottoms into the house. "Marlene is dead."

Lily felt her stomach lurch and the blood drained from her face. "What?" She gasped, her voice little more than a whisper.

Alice let out another sob and Lily rushed forward to take Neville from her. Alice and Marlene had been best friends at school. Lily had been friends with them as well and the thoughts of the ever bubbly Marlene having been killed made her feel sick to her stomach.

And it explained why they were here now. Marlene had been their secret keeper. Whether or not the secret was shared or not the Fidelius charm around their home had been rendered inert.

"Good thinking bringing them here." James nodded at Peter.

Peter shrugged, his his cheeks warmed at the praise, "It seemed like the best idea."

Lily brought Neville upstairs and gently placed him in the crib alongside Rose. She waited carefully to see if either of them could wake up and sighed in relief as they slept quietly. After that she ran to the hall closest, grabbing blankets and pillows and quickly made up the guest bedroom which had remained empty until then. She expanded the double bed to better accommodate them and transfigured some sheets into curtains that she hung up over the bare window. 

Once she was finished she came back downstairs to see Peter talking to James in hushed whispers as Frank and Alice sat on the couch.

"Gideon and Fabian were killed last week." Peter whispered lowly, "By Rosier."

"Damnit." James hissed, then sighed, "How's Remus and Sirius?"

"Sirius is fine. He's fought in a few raids, but he's unscathed. Remus...well...." He trailed off uncomfortably.

Lily swallowed nervously. She knew they suspected Remus of having turned, but she found it hard to believe. He'd been working hard to try to keep the werewolf packs on their side, or at the very least not on Voldemort's side and had some success.

"He's still with the packs." Peter finished quietly.

Lily pointed her wand at the cupboard and watched several cups flew out and filled up with piping hot tea. She sent them out to everyone and quickly drank her own, hoping the warmth would quell the coldness that had spread out to her arms.

At least the children were safe. That was the important thing, after all. And as long as Peter remained their secret keeper, they were safe.

She took a deep breath, yes. Rose was safe.

***

October 31st, 1981

Voldemort stood in front of the village, his fingers moving over his wand as he stood there, studying the inhabitants.

James and Lily Potter were sitting on a love-seat, little Briar-Rose sitting on their laps, babbling nonsense and waving around what looked like a miniature beaters bat. On the floor, Frank Longbottom was playing with his son Neville, as Alice Longbottom spoke to him with a large smile on her face.

None of them looked out the large front window, and none of them saw the cloaked figure standing at the edge of the path. 

Muggle children were running around the central town square, dressed in their various costumes and screaming in delight as adults supervised them. None of them stopped at the home he stood in front of, the building invisible to their eyes.

Voldemort smirked to himself as he walked towards the wrought iron gate. This would be it - the night he finally destroyed what he saw as the last great obstacle against him. Once the children were dead, he could make his move against the Ministry. It would be his after only a few months. And after that - Hogwarts.

He opened the gate and walked through. He hadn't taken any of his death eaters with him. He wouldn't need them. 

He walked up the front path, stood in front of the door for a moment and hesitated.

Then with a flick of his wand, the door blasted open.

"Lily!" He heard one of the men, Potter most likely, yelled, "Alice, take the children upstairs, we'll hold him off."

There was a scurry and Voldemort hissed, "Avada Kedavra" at the woman. Longbottom yelled and jumped in front of the spell, saving his wife, and collapsed to the floor. His wife shrieked, but Lily Potter grabbed and yanked her up the stairs with the children.

Voldemort turned and cast another green spell at James Potter who collapsed to the ground, his glasses skewered. He hadn't even had a wand.

He stepped over the two men, moving towards the staircase the two women had climbed up. One of them had had the foresight to cast several wards and hexes along the way, but he cut through them like water. He commended them for attempting to prevent the inevitable.

He quickly spotted the room with the curly Pink letters spelling out 'Briar -Rose' and blasted the door apart.

There was a screech and he relished in the fear permeating the air. He sauntered into the room, looking like he had all the time in the world.

"Please don't." The blond haired Alice Longbottom begged, standing in front of the crib holding the two children. One was crying, its piercing cream itching at his mind. Standing in front of the blonde was Lily Potter, who was holding her arms out, in a last ditch effort to save her friend and child.

"Please, not Rose. Not Neville. They're just babies, please-"

"Stand aside." He snapped at her, his remind recalling the promise he'd made Severus Snape. "Stand aside!"

"No," Lily sobbed, "Not Rose, kill me instead, but leave her alone."

Voldemort hissed, offering a single warning, "Move aside!"

But Lily Potter ignored him, begging him not to kill her only child. Voldemort knew it would end this way, no matter what he had promised Snape. 

He sent a burst of light at her, and with a startling scream she collapsed to the ground.

Alice longbottom glared at him, her trembling lip the only sign of fear as she glare at him silently, but unmoving from her position in front of the children.

He hadn't promised anyone he would save her, so with a single spell, she was dead.

Voldemort stepped over their fallen bodies, not feelings anything but a twinge of annoyance over the spilt magical blood. The Longbottoms and Potters were long lines of families. It would be a shame to have to end them now.

He peered into the crib, looking at the small children. The crying boy still didn't have much hair, and his entire face was bright red and covered in tears. The other child was a small girl with hair that curled under her ears and a small butterfly clip in her hair. She looked up at him with a wobbling lip and wide green eyes, the same colour of the curse he would use to murder her.

 

Before he could second guess himself, Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at the girl. As he did so, the crying boy fell silent and stared at him with wide, terrified eyes.

"Avada Kedavra."

And then pain. Horrifying, searing pain. He felt his entire body fold in on himself as his vision burst green. He screeched, reaching out with everything, anything he had, trying to remain here and now and not be ripped apart and scattered through the wind.

And then he was gone. The room was destroyed, the roof of the building torn off in an explosion hat nobody had seen.

And Rose Potter started to cry. On her forehead there was a small, lightning bolt shaped cut. The blood from the cut started to leak over her face, getting into her eyes and mouth and staining her clothes. 

"Dada!" Rose Potter cried, seeing her mother laying on the floor - she called for the only person she knew, and the only word she could say.

And in that moment, Neville Longbottom performed his first bit of accidental magic.

It was a rather extraordinary thing. The young boy, seeing his friend cry out for her father, somehow managed to banish young Rose Potter from the nursery, only for her to reappear back in the living room, onto the love seat where Neville Longbottom had seen her sitting with her father only moments before.

And from her spot on the love-seat, Rose Potter continued to cry, as Neville Longbottom sat upstairs in the destroyed nursery, waiting to be discovered...

***

As it was, over the next several hours, many people came to the house.

The first person to arrive, was Severus Snape.

Snape had heard from Bellatrix that the location of the Potters had been found. As soon as he got the address he was gone, rushing towards the house with a sharp panic in his stomach.

When he saw the house he felt ill. Half the building had been destroyed, however he noticed with a frown that the dark mark hadn't been placed over it. But his own panic stopped him from thinking things through as he rushed into the home.

In the living area he saw two bodies laying on the floor - a messy batch of dark hair made him pause, but since there was so sign of the fiery red he continued to search the home.

He rushed through the kitchen, the den and offices, but could find nothing. Without a word he rushed up the stairs, looking for her, praying that she had gotten away, praying that he wouldn't find her.

He spotted a burst open door and felt his heart plummet to his stomach. He walked over to it, and looked inside.

He felt himself fall to his knees as his heart crumpled into his chest. Laying on her back, her large green eyes open and unseeing, was Lily. His Lily. Her hair was fanned around her head in a perfect halo, and one hand was still outstretched towards the crib.

Without a word he reached out to her, sobbing lightly when he felt her hand. She was still warm, there was still red in her cheeks and her hair still smelled like lavender and her skin like vanilla - the same lotion she had used when they were in school together.

The Dark Lord had lied. He had promised! As a reward for bringing him the prophecy. It had been the one thing, the only thing, he had ever ask, that he would ever ask.

And as he held Lily, pressing one last kiss to forehead, he knew he would never follow the man again.

A soft cry echoed in the air and Snape felt his eyes snap up. He looked passed the slumped over form of Alice Longbottom and towards the crib where he noticed with surprise, a small child. A baby, that was crying and watching him with large baby blue eyes.

Longbottom.

Snape frowned. How was the child still alive? Why was he still alive, even when his precious Lily was dead? Why had the Dark Lord not finished the job?

Somehow, as Severus Snape held he body fo Lily Potter, he realized with a smug satisfaction that the Dark Lord, somehow, had failed.

***

The second person to visit was Sirius Black.

The man had been to visit Peter, and had noticed his apartment empty, and looking like it hadn't been lived in in weeks. In the bit of his stomach he knew something was wrong.

He found a single piece of paper laying on the table, her eyes searching over it as he felt his heart drop to his stomach. Why would Wormtail write this down? Was he really this stupid? Or had he purposefully told someone.

The Potter's can be found at 12 Church's Way, Godric's Hollow

Sirius crumbled up the piece of paper and ran out of the apartment - he needed to check on them. He needed to make sure they were alright.

He leapt onto his motorbike, revving the engine and quickly taking it to the skies. He cursed under his breathe that the damned thing couldn't go fasted, and he could feel the cold winter air on his face as he rushed through the night sky to get to Godric's Hollow

He landed roughly in the dirt in the main square, not caring how may muggles saw him.

Just like Snape, he found the house easily, and felt his heart cry out at the sight of the destroyed home. He rushed for the door, gripping the edge of the doorframe as he looked into the living area.

"James." He cried out, seeing the form on the floor. He rushed over, hoping, praying, that he'd only been stunned. But as he collapsed next to him it didn't take long to see that his best friend was dead.

He felt a sob escape him, and tried to push it down. They had failed. All their plans to keep them safe had failed. He saw Frank laying beside him and couldn't find in himself to wonder what he was doing there.

A soft gurgling noise caught his attention and he looked up, noticing for the first time that his eyes had filled with tears. When they escaped and fell over his cheeks his vision cleared and what he saw felt like the smallest miracle in what had become his worst nightmare.

Sitting on the couch, was little Briar Rose. His God-Daughter who was grinning at him and reaching her hands out, completely unaware of what was happening around them.

Sirius stumbled to his feet, walking over and swept her into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest as he sobbed lightly.

And then all at once, the pain and despair was replaced by rage. Burning hot and maddening.

Peter had betrayed them.

He had to have. The fidelius charm was still in place, so he wasn't dead. He must've given them up.

Without another word, he gently lowered Rose down to the couch. He couldn't just leave her there, but he needed to go after Peter, before the little rat vanished and disappeared forever.

Without a word he pulled his wand out, whispering 'Expecto Patronum"

A shaggy silver dog appeared, looking just as sad and forlorn as he'd been.

"The Potter's Can be Found at 12, Church's Way, Godric's Hallow. Come quick" He spoke to the dog, and sent it off to Dumbledore. The old headmaster would know what to do.

And without another word, Sirius Black left the home, and his Motorcycle, turning on the spot to start his hunt.

***

The last people to arrive at Godric's Hallow that night were Rubeus Hagrid, and Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore had felt a pain of sadness hit him once Sirius Black Patronus as reached him. He knew he had to act quickly. A few hours beforehand, madness had erupted all over the Ministry as hundred of people under the imperious curse had suddenly been released. Following that several previous Death Eaters had turned themselves in, saying they had been controlled beyond their will, and each one of them had showed them the faded Dark Mark. No longer was it the burned black ink seared into their arms, but rather a faded red, almost brown, that was barely visible.

It hadn't taken a genius to understand that somehow, beyond all expectation, the Dark Lord had fallen.

So when Sirius' patronus reached him, he hadn't been surprised. Had the prophecy been fulfilled so soon? It seemed impossible.

"Come on Hagrid." Dumbledore whispered, "And prepare yourself."

Hagrid was already crying, tears soaking his large beard, and his hand shook as he followed Dumbledore. Hagrid might not be the most powerful, or graceful man alive. But his Loyalty was unwavering, and in these trying times loyalty had become hard to come by.

What had Sirius done...?

He walked through the open door, and closed his eyes at the sight of James and Frank. He heard Hagrid let out a sob and Dumbledore walked over to the bodies and knelt down, reaching out a hand to close their eyes.

"Dumbledore, sir."

Albus looked back at Hagrid, who was pointing at the couch. he turned to see what Hagrid was looking at and blinked in surprise.

A small chid was laying on the couch.

Albus felt his heart crumble as he walked over to the small baby, little Rose Potter.

"Is she....?"

Dumbledore leaned down and with surprise noticed her chest rising and falling, "Asleep."

"Oh, thank merlin." Hagrid let out a wailing sob, "She's jus' a little one. I thought..."

Albus reached forward and picked up the child, who babbled in her sleep a bit, sticking her thump into her mouth. He gently passed her to Hagrid, who gently cradled her in his arms.

"The upper floor was destroyed." Dumbledore whispered, looking towards the stairs.

They walked towards the stairs, and after a few spells to make sure the building was stable, Albus climbed up towards the second floor.

The door to the nursery was blasted inwards, and he faulted only a moment before entering the room.

Hagrid let out another mighty roar as they saw the sight of Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom. Albus did the same for them, closing their eyes and moving Alice to lay on the floor.

And then he peeked into the crib.

Once again, he was startled to see little Neville Longbottom staring back at him with the side blue eyes.

"He's alive." Hagrid was shocked.

"It seems so." Dumbledore frowned. He turned and looking at the roof, which had been blasted open to the nights sky. It was obvious that whatever had happened, had happened in this room. He looked back at Neville, deep in thought, before he eyes fell on something beside the child.

His eyes widened as he reached down, slowly grabbing a long white wand, 17 inches long and made of yew.

It was Voldemort's wand.

It left Dumbledore without a shred of doubt. He reached for his own wand and pressed it to Voldemort's.

"Priori incantatem" He casted.

He watched as a burst of green light hovered over the wand, not once, but five times.

Five curses cast.

But only four bodies.

Before the first killing curse, Dumbledore heard a crack and knew that it was the ghost of his apparition.

He frowned, and looking down at Neville Longbottom, the puzzle pieces coming together into his mind.

He killed Frank and James first, he either didn't see Rose or decided to come back for her. He then followed Lily and Alice upstairs before killing them and then...

Turned his wand on Neville Longbottom.

He gathered up Neville into his arms, realizing that he held the child of the prophecy in his arms. He was unsure if Voldemort would be gone for good, but either way, Neville would be the one to kill him in the end.

And without another word, Dumbledore and Hagrid took the two small children, and left the cold home.

Neville Longbottom would go to his Grandmother, the poor woman would have to be told.  
Dumbledore was unsure about Rose. He thought maybe Peter, Remus wouldn't be allowed to take a child. But the events of the next day would leave him with no choice.

On the night of November 1st, Dumbledore left Briar-Rose Potter on the front step of Number 4 Privet Drive with a small letter which explained that Lily Potter had died, and that they were the only people who could take care of her.

No blood ward. No protection.

And no real reason for the Dursley's to keep her


	2. The Man in my Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just catching up to what I've already posted on FFN.

The first thing he was aware of was the bright light.

He tried to close his eyes to prevent the permeating light from blinding him, but they wouldn't corporate. He felt his head pound in pain and he hissed. Slowly but surely he adjusted to the brightness and shapes and colours started to form around him.

The room was white - disgustingly so. The walls were white, and the floor was a pale wood. All the furniture was white as well, and the sheets and pillows on the bed against the wall was also white. The only splashes of colour in the small room were several scattered toys around the room, including a pile of blocks and a few half dressed dolls laying in a pile near the bed.

He groaned, wondering why he was laying on the floor in what seemed to be a child's room. He made a move to climb to his feet.

But nothing happened.

He frowned, trying to move again, but he couldn't make his arms or legs move. He attempted to wiggle his toes, but then realized he couldn't even look down to see if they were moving.

"Stop that."

He jumped lightly, then cursed himself for being startled. Frozen as he was he couldn't look around the room for the child that had spoken.

"Who's there?" He demanded, making his voice menacing.

"Me." The voice said again. It sounded very matter of fact, as if he should know who he was talking to already.

He would have rolled his eyes if he could control them, "Who are you?"

"Rose."

He froze. Rose? As in Briar-Rose? He shook his head, it had to be a coincidence. Briar-Rose Potter had only been a year old. This child sounded much older than that.

He tried to think back and remember what had happened. He remembered killing the Potters and Longbottoms. And then he'd tried to kill Rose Potter.

And his spell had backfired. He could remember the green coming back at him, and then pain. Was he dead? Was this some sort of strange demented afterlife?

"Nuh-uh. Just my room." The child spoke again. Voldemort frowned, could she read his mind?

"Where are we child?" He snapped.

"My room."

Voldemort huffed, remembering very quickly why he hated children, "What city. Where do you live?"

"Uhh..." The child trailed off and appeared to be thinking. Suddenly a bunch of words started to fly through his mind and he winced at the onslaught.

'England, London, not London, south, south east, left, beside, er.....'

"Surrey?" He supplied.

"Uh-huh!" Rose said and he felt a burst of pride come through him. He frowned, those weren't his thoughts, or his emotions, "What's your name?"

Voldemort paused, not wanting to use his true name as to not startled her or send her running for hep before he got his answers, "Tom. I'm Tom. How old are you Rose?"

"Five," She said, but she pronounced it like 'fibe'. Tom frowned, he would have guessed she was a bit older, or rather he hoped she was. 

"Whats your family name?" He asked.

"Er..."

"Your last name." He repeated in annoyance.

"Oh! Potter. Rose Potter!"

Voldemort felt a burst of unease. Obviously something had happened. He must've been incapacitated for a few years after the attack. But what had happened? What kind of magic could cause the killing curse to rebound like that?

"Mr. Tom?"

Voldemort huffed in annoyance, "Just Tom."  
"Oh - er - how come you never talk?"

Voldemort frowned. What on earth was she blabbing about? "Pardon?"

"You never talked before now." The girl said.

He felt his unease increase. He still hadn't seen the little girl, and he still couldn't move. He could feel dread encase him as he slowly started to come to the starling realization of where exactly he was.

"How long have I been here?" He demanded, trying to keep calm.

There was a pause, then, "You're always there. Since before I can remember. But you never talk, you're just sad."

He furrowed his imaginary eyebrows as he tried to piece everything together. The killing curse should have killed him when it rebounded, but it didn't. He assumed his Horcruxes did their job then, and he had been anchored to life, unable to truly die.

But without a body.

It seems that the last bits of his soul had latched themselves to one of the living beings in the room as his body had been destroyed, hiding away inside of little Rose Potter. The damage must have been truly spectacular for it to take two years before he regained sentience.

"I was sick Rose..." He trailed off, feeling a sick smirk cross his mind as he started to formulate new plans, "But I'm better now."

"Good." Rose spoke, "Can I show you something?"

He didn't respond, instead trying to think about this situation - his best solution would be to rebuild his mental shields, strengthen his Occlumency and Legilimency. Perhaps then he could overcome Rose's mind and take over her body Once he did that he could start to find a way to create a new body for his own.

Rose apparently took his silence for an affirmative, because suddenly the entire world shifted as she pulled herself up to standing. She walked over to the blocks which were still scattered over the floor.

She put out her hands, small stubby little things with short nails and small cuts that looked like they were from a cat or something. 

And the blocks started to float.

Rose giggled madly as they started to rise, hovering over her head like a makeshift mobile, twirling around her and making various shapes as they spun around.

Voldemort paused in his plotting to watch. It was...impressive, to say the least. He wondered if he'd been able to do things like this at a young age? This wasn't accidental or emotional magic. This was controlled wandless magic. She was actively trying to make the block float for her own amusement.

He felt something shift in his mind. Maybe she could be more use than a mindless slave after all.

The door to the room swung open and Rose startled, twisting around fast enough to make him dizzy. Standing at the entrance to the room was a rather portly woman. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun except for a large potion in the front which was curled upwards. She wore a large tan coloured turtleneck and tight blue pants. She was holding her hands on her hips, looking severely cross.

All the blocked fell out of the sky, crashing to the floor around them.

"Briar-Rose!" The woman hissed, rushing forward. Rose looked down and started to stutter, but the woman interrupted her by slapping her across the face, "What have I told you!"

Voldemort felt the sting of the slap just as much a Rose and hissed in fury. How dare this muggle tart hit a Wizard! How dare this filth lay hands upon one of them!

Rose started to cry, sniffling as she reached up to hold her stinging cheek, "N-Not to make t-the blocks f-float." She stutter out through her sobs.

The woman grabbed her arm and started to pull her from the room, "Time and Time again I said not to!"

"Ow!" Rose cried as she the woman pulled her long, "You're hurting me!"

"Shut your yap!" The woman hissed, yanking her into the hallway, "Ungrateful brat."

Voldemort felt another burst of rage, but this one was decidedly not his own.

"I said!" Rose hissed at the woman, "You're HURTING ME."

And then right in front of his eyes, Voldemort saw the skin on the arm dragging Rose along slice open by an invisible blade. The woman dropped Rose, crying out as she yanked her arm away. It was bleeding heavily, but not fatally. She rushed down the all, crying out for 'Todd' as she did so, leaving Rose alone in the hall.

Voldemort was surprised. For a moment he'd thought that he'd been the one to slice her arm open, but he could feel a sort of smug satisfaction coming from the toddler he inhabited which could mean only one thing.

"Why did you do that Rose?" He asked.

The toddler shrugged, not feeling repentant at all, "She was hurting me." She said as if it explained it all.  
And it really did.

"So I hurt her back."

***

The Hicks were the first family Rose remembered. Before them she had been with a lady named Sheena Davis, but Rose couldn't remember her. Apparently she had had to give her up after she was diagnoses with Terminal cancer. 

Rose wondered if she should feel sad about that, but she didn't. She didn't even remember the lady.

Then, after a brief stint at a group home, she was with the Hicks. Corrie and Todd Hick, a middle upper class family from Guildford who wanted a child they could raise as their perfect little angel. Instead they got Rose, with her strange silences, imaginary friend, and ability to make objects fly.

And of course, people are so afraid of things they don't understand. Corrie was the worst, giving her smacks and slaps and punishments every time she caught Rose playing with her magic. Todd didn't care, but he never tried to stop his wife, preferring to read his newspaper in front of the television, waiting for his wife to serve dinner in silence.

But throughout everything, he'd been there.

She wasn't sure what he was. She hadn't even known it was a 'he'. Just a strange pressure in her mind, like someone was standing to close to her and she could feel the static from their body. Tingly.

And it was sad. And scared. She tried to reassure it as she laid in bed at night, stroking it with her mind and whispering assurances to it that everything would be okay. She could read her picture books and point at the various images, explaining them to it as she made up wild stories and adventures. 

And then one day it talked back to her! It said his name was Tom and he wasn't so scared anymore, or sad. Instead he seemed curious and angry and little bit annoyed. She got the sense that he didn't really like her, but he never said anything so she elected him to be her friend anyway.

She showed him her blocks. And then Corrie saw.

The woman had slapped her hard, making her cry. She'd been scared of what the woman would do, and then she grabbed her and started to drag her. She'd been so scared. So, so scared....

And Tom had been angry. So angry that it scared her a little bit. But then she was angry too. She didn't want to be hurt, and she didn't want Corrie to keep hurting her.

So she hurt Corrie.

It had felt good to let her magic lash out, slicing her arm open. The blood had been warm when it splashed on her hand and she felt vindictive and happy that the woman was hurting too. 

And it had worked. Corrie let her go. A few minutes late Todd came down the hall and told her to go to her room.

She did. 

She talked to Tom all night. He wanted to know everything about her! Who she lived with, why she was there. She told him about the group home and how they weren't her real parents, just foster parents. She told him how she'd been left at a Police station as a baby and how sad she was that her mommy and daddy didn't want her.

"Your parents didn't abandon you." Tom had said, "They're dead."

Rose had paused, "How do you know?"

"Because I killed them."

There hadn't been any emotion in his voice as he said this. No smugness or sadness or happiness. Just monotone, like he was repeating a well known fact. The Earth is round. The sky is blue. I killed your parents.

Rose tilted her head, wondering how she felt about this. Somewhere deep inside she knew that she should be upset about it. She should scream and cry and hate him forever.

But she didn't. She just...didn't care. A part of her was actually happy. Her parents hadn't abandoned her. They were just dead.

Again, like with Sheena Davis, she wondered if she should be sad. But again, she didn't remember them, so why should she care if they were dead?

"Okay." Was all she said to tom.

She could feel his incredulity, as well as his sudden understanding.

He knew she wasn't a normal kid. Even beyond the whole, magic thing. She didn't feel things right. It was like her emotions were broken. She knew them all. Happiness, Anger, Sadness, Fear, Curiosity, pride. But sometimes she wouldn't feel the right thing.

Like when she cut Corrie. She should have felt guilt and sadness. Instead she felt happy and satisfied.

But Tom didn't mind.

"There's nothing wrong with that." He assured her one night, "I'm the same way."

"You are?" She asked him in awe, a burst of happiness in her chest. He was like her!

He told her about the orphanage he grew up in, and how the other boys were cruel and hurtful. He told her how he had made them hurt, and then they stopped hurting him. Just like how she had done with Corrie.

"Fear can be a powerful motivator." He said. "If you use it correctly. You have to know just how much to apply, because if you apply too much it can make people snap."

But Corrie never snapped. Instead she called Social Services and said she couldn't care for Rose anymore. She said Rose was a problem child, and that she didn't have to resources to care for someone like her.

As she entered the car that would take her and her stuff back to the group home, Rose looked back at the Hicks home and glared.

In the back of the home, a small fire erupted underneath a power outlet. Nobody noticed.

Rose smirked to herself as they drove home, listening to Tom's soothing voice congratulating her on a job well done.

***

Her third home wasn't anything special. It was a young thirty year old woman named Erin Huber. Rose had decided to keep her magical abilities secret at the urging of Tom.

She started school while she was living with Erin. She didn't mind it, but being among so many other kids her age just showcased how different she was from them.

Their teacher told them the story of Little Red Riding Hood, and while all the children gasp and cheered at the end, Rose was just confused.

"Why didn't the wolf just kill the grandma?" She asked Tom, "It seems stupid to leave her alive."

"It's a kids story." Tom replied, like that explained it all.

"It's stupid." She mumbled.

Tom was quiet before he spoke again, "In some of the original versions the Wolf kills the grandmother, and then serves her to Little Red for dinner. And in some the wolves eats Little Red too, and she dies. It was only later that the character of the Huntsman was introduced."

"That makes more sense." Rose said as she swung on the swings outside the school, "A little girl couldn't beat a wolf. They're too big. And wolves can't talk anyway."

"Some say it could have been a werewolf."

Rose slowed on the swing, tilting her head, "Are werewolves real?"

"Yes." He said, "And you're right. A little girl would be no challenge."

Later in class Tom had to stop her from asking her teacher about the cannibalizing wolf.

"Other people wouldn't understand." He said softly.

When she was at home Tom helped her with her homework, slowly teaching her how to read. He got frustrated easily, but he never gave up and continued to help her with words she stumbled over. She was glad for his help, and soon she was the best reader in her class.

"Tom?" She asked one day as she was working on her maths, "Can you do magic too?"

He was silent for a long time. She thought he wouldn't answer her and she went back to her maths, chewing on her pencil as she worked.

"Yes." Tom said after a while, making her jump, "But not right now. Maybe after I get my body back."

"Can I help?" Rose asked.

"I'm sure you will." He replied.

***

She wasn't sure why she left Erin's home. She was there for about six months before she had to pack up and go back to the group home. She didn't ask any question - honestly she preferred it at the group home. Nobody there would try to be a parent. There was no pretending to be anything than what she was - an orphan.

"Who do you think put me at the Police?" She asked Tom one day while playing with the Lego's at school. 

Tom was silent for a bit, "I don't know." He said eventually, "Dumbledore might have taken you to family, or straight to the government. But he wouldn't have abandoned you at a muggle police station."

"Whats a muggle?"

"Them." Tom said with a tone of disgust, and Rose realized he was talking about the other kids in her class, "The ones without magic. Horrible, aren't they?"

Rose tilted her head as she studied her classmates. One was crying in a corner after having fallen over, she hadn't even hurt herself. Another was chewing on a crayon, which couldn't' taste very good. Two more were picking on a girl with glasses in the corner.

"Yes." She agreed, wrinkling her nose at them, "Yes they are."

She stayed at the Group home for quiet a while, and while they were there Tom started to teach her about Magic.

"Most people think Magic is like a bucket of water." He told her as she played in her room by herself. She loved it when he talked about magic, his vice was low and passionate and she could feel the awe and wonder in his tones.

"A bucket of water?" Rose didn't understand.

"Yes." His tone was patient, but she could feel the amusement he felt as if it was her own, "Most Witches and Wizards see their Magic as the water. Super Powerful wizards, like myself or Dumbledore, have a full bucket of water, and others, like Squibs and weak wizards have very little water in their bucket. They think that they are born with only a certain amount of magic that limits their growth and power."

He paused for a moment.

"This is the mindset of the lazy and unambitious." She could almost feel his smirk, "Magic isn't levelled. You either have it, or you don't. Once you get passed that - it's up to you to nurture it. Grow it, and make yourself powerful."

Rose tilted her head, "So some are more powerful, because they know more?"

Tom paused, then tilted his head, "Partially. Think of Magic like a muscle. If you don't use it, it atrophies, it grows weak and useless. The more you use your magic, the more you test it's boundaries and push it's limits, the stronger it'll grow."

Rose didn't understand some of the words he used. But she liked to listen to him talk.

"I believe..." He paused again and she felt a but of uncertainty in him, "When you are young, your parents encourage your magic. They want to see evidence of your magic, and prove that you're not a Squib. They celebrate it. And then, they discourage it."

"Why?" Rose frowned.

"They say it's dangerous. Young magic can be uncontrolled, and sporadic. It feeds on emotions much of time and therefore children are taught to suppress their magic until they get their wands. However when I was younger, I had nobody to squash this magical growth and I learned how to control it, rather than squash it. The same way you have. I believe this is why so many Muggle raised students show power and potential over many wizard raised children."

Rose tried to understand what he was telling, "So my magic is stronger because I ex-sure-size it?"

"Exercise yes." Tome felt amused again, "When I rule the Wizarding world, children will start their magical education much younger. Much like muggle primary schools, so they they have the chance to continue their growth. Too much power and potential has been lost for the sake of Secrecy."

He was angry again. 

Rose tilted her head, "Are muggle raised more powerful then?"  
He was annoyed now, "I only just said there was no difference. Of course they still have the taint of having been raised with muggles and their culture and ideals. They bleed into our like a virus, but if they were brought in at a young age we could teach them our ways, instead of them forcing theirs upon us."

"Tom. How many Wizards are there?"

Amused. "Millions. There's whole world out there, just hidden behind the surface."

"Do they all have Tom's in their heads too?"

He chuckled, "No, Rose. You're just special."  
***

"When you're eleven you'll get an acceptance letter to Hogwarts, a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Rose was humming lightly as she played in the sandbox at the group home. She'd been moved to a new home recently and she liked it much better - it had a play set and swings and a sand box in the backyard and she was allowed to play there all day, as long as she'd made her bed and done her homework.

"But that won't be for a while." Tom said, "You're only five-"

"Almost Six!" She held up four fingers.

"Yes, almost six," He conceded, "And you need to pay better attention to Maths at school."

Rose pouted, "It's hard."

"Everything in life is hard." Tom chided, "Magic is hard. You'll have to work hard to become a powerful witch. Your brain is like your magic, you need to work it hard to be intelligent."

"Intelli-gant means smart right?"

"Yes, Rose."

"Do you learn Maths at Hogwarts?"

Annoyed, "Arithmancy is an optional class in third year, when you're thirteen."

Rose wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I'm gonna take that."

Tom chuckled, "We'll see."

***  
Her sixth birthday wasn't anything special. Miss Farley had made cupcakes for everyone at the home and she'd gotten a bunch of new books and a doll for presents. Afterwards they took her to the cinema to watch a movie about a Mouse Detective. Rose loved it, but Tom made all sort of comments about the viability of a detective mouse. But Rose could tell he was impressed, saying that Cinema had improved since he was a child.

"Only five more birthdays until Hogwarts!" Rose cheered as she went to bed.

"Have you practiced your maths?"

Rose pouted, then folded her hands, "I don't want to."

"Rose..."

"No, I don't want to." Rose walked over to her bed and pulled her doll down, before collapsing on the floor, "It's my birthday, I don't have to."

She could feel Tom's annoyance and disgust with her behaviour, but it just made her angry.  
"Briar-Rose Potter," He snapped at her.

"No!" Rose glared, "I said I don't want to."

And then with a loud snap, a large crack appeared in her bedroom wall, crawling upwards where it curled onto the ceiling. Bits of plaster and insulation fell from the cracks and the whole building seemed to shift.

A few moments that Miss Farley rushed int the room, then looked at the crack on the wall. Rose immediately stood up, preparing to fend off an attack from the muggle.

But Miss Farley just gasped, "My goodness, Rose are you alright?"

Rose blinked in surprise, but quickly realized Miss Farley didn't think se did it, "Yeah."

"Must've been an earthquake..." Miss Farley frowned, but then held out her hand, "Come on dear. You can sleep with Nicki tonight until I get someone in to look at it."

With a small smirk to herself, Rose realized that she wouldn't have to practice maths anymore.

****

Tom didn't talk to her for days after that.

At first Rose had been fine, she was rather mad at him anyways. She talked with the other children, even thought she found them stupid and annoying. They were always babbling and they cried all too easily. And they were tattle tales! Jimmy had told Miss Farley that Rose had burned him, even though it was just a little one and he had deserved it anyway.

She had gotten 15 minutes in time out for that. She would have gotten more, but Miss Farley hadn't been able to figure out how she had burned Jimmy, so she couldn't prove she'd done it.

And she refused to talk to Tom.

A few weeks later she found out she'd be going to a new home.

Home number four was Tiana and Boris Fulton.

They seemed nice. Tiana was kind of, absent. She worked long hours and would come home at late hours of night. Boris didn't seen to have a job and spent most of his days drinking beer and watching football on the telly.

But they let her be. They drove her to school, fed her, but beyond that they let her play on her own and learn on her own.

Rose played with magic, experimenting as she remembered what Tom had said about exercising her magic. She floated her toys around the room, but that was old. She focused on her alarm cloak until it crumbled in on itself, like paper. Then she stared at it, trying to fix it again

Fixing things was much harder than breaking them - and not as satisfying.

Tiana cut her hair at one point, much to her annoyance. Her hair had been long and pin straight. Tiana had cut it until it sat at her shoulders, and had given her straight cut bangs that "Hid that gross scar"

It was the scar that brought Tom out of hiding for the first time.

"How long have you had it?" He asked.

She just shrugged, not answering him. She'd had it as long as she could remember.

She made Tiana's hair fall out in revenge for the haircut. The sound of her panicked screeching as lumps of brown hair fell to the floor had made her giggle as she coloured in her colouring book.

Tom chuckled in the back of her mind, and she knew he had forgiven her.

***

She started Year Two with the Fulton's. It was an all day class and she liked it a lot more than Year One. She got much better at reading, especially with Tom helping her. She still had problems with maths, especially with adding and subtracting. And soon they'd been doing multiplying! Tom refused to help her with it until she started to practice on her own, but she stubbornly refused.

Tom tried to teach her some spells, but nothing really happened.

"Win-gar-drium-"

'Win-gar-dium." He corrected her.

Rose cleared her throat, "Wingardim Leviosa!"

Nothing happened.

"This is stupid!" Rose hissed at him, "I can just do this!"

She waved her hand and the book she'd been practicing on flew into the air like her toys often did. 

"Why do I need to use stupid words?"

Frustration, curiosity, "A lot of Witches and Wizards have troubles focusing their magic, they used wands and words to help their magic do exactly what they need it to do. You may have ease ding simple things like floating and crushing and repairing, but more complicated magic will no doubt require words in order to navigate her magic in the direction you want."

Rose didn't understand and hissed, "Why can't you use easy words! I'm not good at grown up words!"

"You have a dictionary." Tom was unrepentant, "Look them up. Now try Lumos again."

This one Rose actually liked. She had never tried to make light with her hands before. She held her hand out and tried to focus.

"Lumos!" She cried.

Nothing happened.

She glared and tried to just focus on making light appear. But again, nothing happened.  
She could feel Tom thinking in her mind, and it was starting to give her a headache, "Why is this so much harder than the other things."

"Well..." Tom started, "I think everything else you've done has been different versions of the same thing. You're taking an object and changing it, not creating something knew out of nothing like with Lumos."

"I made fire at the Hicks." Rose pointed out.

"You were angry." Tom countered, "Remember a lot of accidental magic like this is built into emotion. Your most powerful magic has come from anger. Rage."

"So I should get mad?"

"I wouldn't recommend it." Tom chuckled, "You could burn the house down."

Rose thought that it would be worth it if she managed to do a proper spell, but didn't say anything.

***

Tom went over the various classes she would take.

"Potions is rather easy." Tom spoke, "Especially if Slughorn is still there. Flattery will get you far with that man. Manipulate him correctly and he'll give you an O no matter how bad your potion is."

Rose paused on her homework to write 'Manipulate' down to look up in the dictionary later, but then let Tom continue.

"Transfiguration is changing one object into another. A rather interesting subject, but I never cared much for the professor. Dumbledore always had it out for me."

Rose frowned. He mentioned Dumbledore a lot, and Rose could tell that he didn't like him. Rose found that she didn't like him either. Tom was super smart and powerful, so if Tom didn't like the man then he probably wasn't a very good person.

"I think you'll have a penchant for charms." Tom chuckled as she wrote down 'penchant', "You already have a great ability to manipulate items as it is. I'm sure you'll be a menace with a wand."

Rose couldn't wait to have a wand. Tom always said that she'd be way more powerful with a wand. She wanted to be powerful like Tom. 

"Astronomy is fairly basic. Nothing you couldn't learn from a muggle science book. History of Magic is rather dull, but that might have just been the professor. Defence Against the Dark Arts, however, was always my favourite class."

Happiness.

"You'll learn minor curses and jinxes, nothing illegal of course. But mostly you'll learn how to protect against dark curses and creatures. Probably the most practical class at Hogwarts."

Rose was determined to be the best ever at that class. Tom would be so proud of her.

***  
"Girl."

Rose paused. She was looking in the cupboard for a snack and had found a granola bar when Boris Fulton had called her over.

He was sitting on the couch, wearing a white t-shirt with beer stains and was sitting surrounded by beer cans. Rose could smell that he was drunk. His eyes were unfocused and he was hiccuping lightly.

Rose walked over to him, standing beside him and stared at him blankly, "What?"

He looked at her, his eyes still unfocused. She wondered if he was really the best person to be looking after a kid, but Tiana was still going to be at work for a few hours.

"Muggle Filth." Tom spat in her mind.

"Briar-Rose." He slurred, "Like the Princess. Disney."

Rose furrowed he eyebrows, not sure what he was talking about, "I'm not a princess."

"Pretty like a princess." He grumbled.

Rose tilted her head. Was she pretty? People didn't call her pretty, they called her cute. With her hair clips and headbands, bright greens and rosy cheeks. But she was just a kid.

"Rose maybe you should just leave him." Tom spoke, "He's clearly an idiot."

Rose wondered why Tom felt worried

As she turned to leave, Boris turned and gripped his forearm, "Wait! I gotta, I got something to do."

Rose frowned, looking down at his arm. She remembered the last time someone had grabbed her like this. She had sliced their arm.

But Boris let go of her quickly, and waved his hand, "Come closer girl, your too far away."

"Rose..."

Rose ignored Tom. Why was he worried? He was just a muggle. A stupid drunk non-magic person. She walked a bit closer until she was standing right next to him, watching him with a frown on her face.

"S'Pretty." He grumbled, and he slowly reached forward, slowly tracing his fingers up her arm. Rose felt her nose wrinkle at the feel of his rough skin on hers and she felt like she needed to wash the skin he'd touch.

She glared at him, "What're you doing?" She demanded.

He ignored her, just making a brief shushing sound as he trialed his hand up and down her arm. He reached near her wrist and switched over to her shirt, trailing up and down her side.

"Stupid Tia. Always at work, s'got needs? You know?"

"Rose get away from that man!" Tom snapped at her, and she felt fear, rage, disgust.

Rose glared at the muggle, still not sure what he was talking about, "Tiana isn't home yet. She said she'd be back in a couple hours."

"Hmm." He wasn't paying her any mind. His hand trailed down to the bottom of her shirt, and hooked around the edge of her skirt.

And then suddenly he was touching her, in a way, and a place that he shouldn't be.

Rose felt a burst of rage that was only matched by the rage coming from Tom. She flung her hand out and a burst of light come out of it, brighter than anything she'd ever seen and Boris cried out, grabbing his hands back to cover his face. And then there was a resounding 'CRACK', followed by him crying out in pain.

He collapsed back, gripping the hand that had been touching her. Rose could see the jagged edge of a bone sticking out the side of him arm, and felt vindictive.

How dare he touch her! That filthy muggle, how dare he do that!

Rose wasn't sure who's thoughts were rushing through her mind as she turned around and ran back to her bedroom, slamming the door. She heard a click as it locked behind her, and she briefly noted that it didn't actually have a lock before she ran onto her bed and curled up in her blankets.

She felt angry tears on her cheeks and a few sobs escaped her as she curled up.

She should have listened to Tom. He told her to run, but she didn't know. 

"Why would he do that?" Rose sobbed into her blanket.

Tom was silent, but she could feel Rage, Rage, Rage.

She pulled her knees to her chest and cried herself to sleep.


	3. The Demon in the Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings - Child abuse and religious violence.

One good thing came out of the incident, as she started to refer to it as. The next day she'd woken up to the foster home coming to pick her up. 

Boris hadn't been anywhere to be seen, but she had seen Tiana. The woman had looked furious, and was looking at her sadly, flinching lightly as she passed. As she went outside she saw a pile of suitcases and realized that Tiana had found out about the incident, and had decided she wasn't okay with it. Rose wondered if he was in jail. She hoped he was.

She came back to the group home. She got a different bedroom, but Rose was okay with that. Miss Farley had looked at her sadly as she returned, with tears in her eyes and Rose grimaced. Did everyone know? She didn't want anyone to know.

After that she had to go to these special meetings with this lady who talked to her about consent and her body and all this stuff that made her want to wrinkle her nose. They had her talk about her feelings and stuff and it made Rose panic. What if they discovered how she was different. She'd never had to talk to anyone before Tom before.

'Lie" Tom whispered in her mind, "I'll show you."

Over the rest of the meeting Tom told her how to act. He told her when to frown, and when to smile. When to look upset and guilty and when to make her eyes tear up a little bit. He told her what to tell the doctor lady, giving her the answers to her questions that she wanted to hear.

Rose overheard the doctor lady talking to a social worker and Miss Farley.

"Yes she seems to be perfectly fine. She's handling it much better than Id expected. Of course keep an eye on her, see how she interacts with the only children and we'll go from there."

"Rose has always been quiet." Miss Farley said sadly, "She doesn't play with the others much, she seems to be fine just playing by herself.She had an imaginary friend for a while, but I think that phase may have faded."

"Well keep a close eye on how she interacts with other people, and her school work." The doctor lady smiled, "Children can show trauma and act out in ways much different than adults. If we're lucky Rose will be okay and the whole incident will fade from her memory."

"We can only hope." Miss Farley flinched.

Rose tilted her head. She didn't think the incident would fade from memory. She wanted to remember it. Remember the feeling of pulling magic through her hand to create the light in her hand that blinded him. The look of horror and pain on his face when she snapped his arm without touching it, and his sobbing, half blind form on the floor as she left him there...

She'd felt powerful in that moment. Only afterwards did she cry over her own stupidity at trusting a stupid muggle. But that moment she wanted to remember forever.

***  
"Tom, why don't you have a body?"

Rose wasn't sure why she hadn't asked him this before. He had been talking for a year now and she never thought to ask why he was there. He'd said she was special, and that's why she had a Tom. But he'd also said he used to have a body.

Tom took a second to reply. Rose had noticed that there was always a pause before he replied after he'd been silent for a while. She assumed he went asleep or dormant when she wasn't talking with him. 

"The night I killed your parents." He started, "I attempted to kill you too."

Rose tiled her head, "Why?"

"You were a threat." 

Rose nodded. That made sense. Corrie Hicks had been a threat. Boris Fulton had been a threat. She knew all about hurting threats. Her parents must've been a threat too.

"When I attempted to kill you, my curse fired back at me. In order to stop myself from dying I latched onto your mind."

"Oh." Rose frowned, "Why didn't the curse work?"

"I've thought long and hard about it. I believe it was the deaths of your mother and Alice Longbottom. They refused to move and in doing so, effectively died to keep you and the other boy safe. I forgot about the power of such sacrifice."

"Other boy?"

"Neville Longbottom." Tom supplied, "He was there as well. Unimportant boy."

Rose hummed, "We're we friends?"

"As much as you could be at a year old." Tom pointed out.

Rose wondered what the other boy was like. Maybe he was like her and Tom. She hoped so. She'd like to have another friend. Most of the other children annoyed her and were rather dull but they couldn't help it, they were just muggles after all.

"Was he magic too?"

"Yes."

Rose beamed, "Maybe I'll see him at Hogwarts then! We could be friends."

Tom seemed uncertain, "Perhaps. But it's unlikely. The Longbottoms are a notoriously light family, and he probably won't be as okay as my murder of his parents."

Rose wrinkled her nose. Well, if this Neville didn't like Tom then he wasn't going to be a friend.

"What's a Light family?" She asked instead, wondering why it was bad.

"Well, technically there's no such thing as a 'Light' family." Tom explained, "Generally it's a term used to describe a family that is against dark magic. Families that actively use all dark magics are Dark Families, like the Blacks and Malfoy's. Some families are more neutral, where they use dark magic, but only legal spells and rituals."

Roses frown grew more and more pronounced as he listened to him. She realized she didn't know anything about the wizarding world. She'd wanted to learn about Magic and how to do it, but she knew that she would need to know about the world she would soon live in.

"My family?" She asked.

"The Potters are considered a light family. But that's a recent development. For centuries they were considered more neutral, but after Grindelwald and my wars against the ministry, there was more pressure for neutrals to pick a side. The Potters chose the light."

Rose frowned, "What's Dark magic then?"

Tom snorted, "That's the question, isn't it? What is dark magic? Dark Magic could be the unforgivable curses. Or it could be the Knockback Jinx, a school boy spell usually cast in the halls. Originally Dark Magic was a specific branch of magic steeped in old magic and ritual, with sacrifices and intent to harm. In fact the magic your mother invoked with her own sacrifice would have been considered an ancient form of Dark Magic. But now a days? Pretty much anything that can harm can be labelled as dark."

"That's stupid." Rose muttered, "You can get hurt doing anything. Timothy Jenkins got hit in the head with a ball the other day and it hurt him, doesn't mean balls should be made illegal."

"Well, not all Dark Spells are illegal." Tom countered, "The knockback jinx is considered dark, but it's hardly illegal. However once the ministry classifies a spell as dark a stigma is attacked to it that wasn't there before. The knockback jinx is no longer taught at Hogwarts, most students learn it from parents or books. It means that spells that had once been common place become lost to time."

"So like how we can't go sledding anymore cause the gov-ment said it was too dangerous." Rose stumbled over her words.

Tom was amused, "Yes, like that. Some Wizards, like myself, believe that the current Ministry has become corrupt. Their policies and laws are made in order to appease rather than for the betterment of society. They are easily bought. They need to be replaced."

"Why don't you just run for gov-er-ment then? Celina Oswald's dad is doing that. She says he can make new laws and rules and stuff."

"Yes. That is an option, however the system is already broken. And there are very powerful witches and wizards who want things to stay the same, both Light Wizards and and Dark. A war was not my first idea, but it was the solution I was forced to go with."

Rose frowned as he spoke. There was an emotion that Tom was feeling as he spoke to her. Something she'd felt before but she couldn't quite place. Eagerness, Deviousness, and...

Deceit.

"You're lying." Rose accused, feeling a bit of pride at having caught him.

Tom was startled, "Pardon?"

"I can feel it." Rose hissed, "I can feel your emotions. You're lying. You're mani-pull-ating me!"

Tom was silent and she could feel him as he rushed through various emotions. Surprise, annoyance, anger, pride.

Pride.

She puffed up her chest a bit. She'd made him proud! Nobody was ever proud of her.

"Alright." Tom assented, "Perhaps I wanted a war. Perhaps I wanted to murder and kill every last muggle I can. Maybe I want to rip wizarding children from their parents to save them from being tainted from the filth. Maybe I want to tear away the muggle growth on our society and bring back the culture of our ancestors and I am willing to torture and kill in order to make sure it happens."

He sounded so calm as he spoke, but Rose could feel his emotion. Passion, rage. The same thing really. Excitement as well.

"Do you know what a tyrant is?"

Rose shook her head. 

"People think it means a supreme ruler, someone who had absolute power over a population. A dictator if you will. But the term goes back to Ancient Greek - tyrannos, someone who gains power through...well, rather unconventional means. Generally someone who takes power by force. But they're not all bad. What if you're taking power from a cruel and vicious leader? You're still a tyrant but yet a better leader than they had before.

"In Ancient Corinth, the ruling family was called the Bacchiadae, who were severely unpopular. A man called Cypselus overthrew them and became a tyrant of Corinth, but under him the state prospered."

Rose nodded, "If the leader is bad, then you need a new leader, who will do things right."

"Exactly." Tom was pleased. 

"So you want to be a...Tyrant, of the Wizarding World?" 

"Well, I wouldn't use the word Tyrant. It has a bit of a negative connotation these days. But yes."

Rose tilted her head, trying to think over what he'd said. She didn't really understand all the words he;d used but she thought she understood what he meant. The wizarding world was ruled by bad people, who stayed in power doing bad things. And Tom wanted to fix it, but he had to do bad things to do that.

"I cut open Corrie's arm." Rose finally said, "To make her stop hurting me. I had to do a bad thing, in order to make a good thing happen."

Tom was silent, probably letting her work things out.

"And I hurt Boris. It felt good. He deserved it."

"It made you feel powerful."

Rose shifted uncomfortably. It did, and she didn't feel bad about it. More she felt like she should feel bad, and she didn't. Was she a bad person?

"Maybe we're both bad people." Tom pointed out, "Merlin knows I've chipped away at my humanity until I am little more a piece of soul inside your mind."

"You're not bad." Rose glared at nothing, "You help me. You teach me. If you're bad, then I'm bad."

"Well then, young Briar."Tom chuckled in her mind, feeling bursts of pride and success that filled her with happiness, "It seems that we'll be bad together.

***

She stayed at the group home up until after her 7th Birthday. They took her to the cinema again, this time to see an old movie that had come out when Tom was in school. He had hummed lightly as they watched the old school animation style and she got flashes of a dark haired little boy, a few years older than her, sitting in a old cinema watching the same movie.

Rose had overheard them talking a few times. They were looking for a suitable home for her without any men present, and had been having some trouble. The issue was she now had a bit of a reputation of a trouble maker, which hadn't been helped when Corrie Hicks had told them she was a problem child.

She had just started year 3 when they finally found a home for her.

Her name was Ellise. She was an older woman, in her late Sixties. Her hair was white and curled back from her face. She had frown lines, but was always smiling which didn't make much sense to Rose, but she seemed friendly enough. She wore ugly sweaters and bunny slippers and her house was pretty big.

Her bedroom was super nice. She had a large bed with a giant chest full of toys and a big bookshelf. She had her own desk in the corner that she could colour on or do her homework. She was getting much better at maths and they were doing a lot about science this year, which Tom told her to pay attention too.

"Physics is useless." He waved it off, "It's based on a muggle understanding of the universe, not a magical one. But Biology, Chemistry, Environmental studies and the like will help you a lot at Hogwarts, especially in Potions and Herbology."

He encouraged her to have good grades in everything, saying that it built good study habits. Every night he made her spend two hours on homework, even if it only took five minutes to finish.

Ellise seemed pleased by her work ethic, and tended to leave her to it. She only had a few rules in her house, and they all seemed fairly easy. Keep your room clean, no swearing, do your school work, take your shoes off at the door etc etc. 

She had to say prayer before dinner, which she didn't get, but it was just words. And if it made Ellise happy than who was she to argue? In fact Ellise was very religious compared to other homes she'd been in. Every Sunday Rose would dress up in her best dress and she would go with Ellise to mass. Tom was always oddly silent every time they did this, but she could get flashes of a childhood of similar visits with long lines of children in rows in a dreadful looking place.

It didn't take long for her to memorize the hymns and harmonies and Ellise would always smile at her. She probably thought she was raising a perfect christian little girl. She would read her stories from the bible as bedtime stories, and Rose would always giggle at ones about witches. 

"Keep your magic on the down low with her." Tom had suggested, "You never know with these religious types. They tend not to take it as well."

As Ellise read about burning witches in hells fire, she thought that maybe he had a point.

Tom continued her magical education and started to educate her about the different magical families.

"So the Sacred 28 are the Pureblood families?" Rose asked.

"Well, thats some of them, sure. But not all. The list is politically influenced, and many pureblood families were discluded from the list - like the Potters."

"My family is pureblood?"

"The Potters are an old pureblood family, yes. However your mother is muggleborn. Therefore you are considered a Half-Blood - like myself."

Rose smiled. She liked being similar to Tom. She wanted to be like him, confident, powerful, intelligent.

"Why aren't the Potter's in the Sacred 28 then?"

"Multiple reasons. I believe your Great-grandfather, Henry Potter, condemned the Ministry for not supporting the muggles during World War One, which didn't sit well with some blood supremacists. But also there was some suspicion about the origin of the family, since Potter was a common muggle name."

"Oh yes." Rose snorted, "Because Black is such a unique name."

Tom chuckled, "Yes it's all very silly. The list was mostly just a way for certain pureblood families to 'certify' themselves. They could demanded higher dowries for their daughters and higher respect from the community. These days the only people who care about the list are those on it."

"Are you on it?"

"My mothers family, The Gaunts, are on it." He spoke after a while, "But they're an example of why being pureblood doesn't make much of a difference. My mother was barely a squib, and my grandfather and uncle were damned near insane from inbreeding."

"Ew." Rose wrinkled her nose.

"The Crabbes and Goyles are the same, and madness runs in the Black family."

"Why though?" Rose frowned, "I thought you said there was millions of witches and wizards, why marry their family?"

"Remember what I told you about the bucket of water? A lot of pureblood families think this way. Or rather they think the water is blood. The more wizarding blood in have in your family, the more powerful you are. Of course we can prove thats not true, just look at your Mother, a muggleborn powerful enough to disrupt the killing curse..."

"But then why do they follow you?" Rose asked, "If you're a half-blood."

"Well, they don't know that. They make their assumptions and I don't correct them. Throughout your life, Briar Rose, people will make all sorts of assumptions. Learn which ones benefit you, and let those thoughts grow."

"Why do you want them to follow you, if they're mad and dumb and weak?"

"They're rich, politically powerful, and determined. And more so they aren't squeamish about doing what needs to be done."

"They're like...us?" 

She didn't need to go further than that. Did they feel bad about things? Or were they like Rose and Tom, who didn't feel bad about anything. 

"No. But thinking you're doing the right thing is a powerful motivator to do what you would otherwise not."

"But...you don't think that, right?" Rose confirmed, "You don't think muggleborns are weak and pitiful?"

"They're powerful, but they are still muggle filth." Tom sneered, "They were raised by muggles. Once I take over, they will be wizard raised. We will save them from corruption at a young age, keeping our world pure from muggle contamination."

Rose nodded, "Yes. We should have primary schools too. So they won't have to go to muggle ones."

He beamed in pride. "Yes Rose."

Rose hummed, "I think once I get into the wizarding world, I won't ever leave."

***

She was with Ellise for a year before the first 'incident' happened.

It wasn't anything big. She'd run home from the park and had forgotten to take off her shoes at the door. Ellise had grabbed her arm as she was running into the house, and there was a big a 'pop', followed by pain.

Rose shrieked and collapsed to the floor, holding her shoulder in pain.

Ellise glared down at her, "I told you to take off your shoes." She said coldly, before turning and vanishing back into the kitchen, leaving Rose laying in the lobby, pain shooting down her arm.

"Tom!" Rose cried into her mind, "It hurts!"

Tom was cursing and hissing and Rose felt white hot rage come through her. But Rose didn't care, her arm hurt so much she just wanted to get the pin to stop.

"Stand up!" Tom growled, "Get to your room!"

Rose grunted, using her unharmed hand to slowly push herself up to her feet, tears flowing down her face. Now that she was standing she was able to get a good look at her arm.

She let out a wet sob at the sight of her arms sticking out at a weird angle.

"Dislocated." Tom spoke, his tone just angry, but he had calmed down.

Rose kicked her shoes off and quickly rushed into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"What do I do?" Rose asked, eyes full of tears and breathing heavily as she struggled to not move her arm.

"Rose, listen to me." Tom's vice was even and calming and Rose felt her breathing eve out as he spoke, "I'm going to take over your body for a few moments, okay? And then I'm going to fix your arm. It's going to hurt, a lot."

Rose whimpered, but looking at her arm now made her feel sick to her stomach. 

"O-Okay." She whimpered.

A moment later she felt something pushing on her head. Out of reflex she pushed back against it and her head burst out in pain.

"Relax, Briar. I won't hurt you."

Rose didn't like it, but she trusted Tom. With reluctance she stopped pushed back against the force, and instantly it consumed her.

And then they were walking. Rose gasped in shock, because she wasn't controlling it. Tom must've taken control of her.

He walked up to the door and opened it. Rose looked for any sight of Ellise, but the woman seemed to have vanished into the kitchen. She wasn't sure what Tom was doing, but he lined up her shoulder against the door.

Tom didn't give her any warning when he suddenly lunged forward, pressing her shoulder into the wall and forcing it back into place.

Rose screamed, but luckily she didn't have control of her body so it was silent n her mind. She didn't understand how Tom could possibly stay silent through the pain. She was sobbing in her mind as Tom stretched her arm. He walked over to her bed and lay down, and slowly she felt her eyes close.

She wasn't sure what he was doing, but slowly the pain started the vanish. Eventually her sobs defended to sniffles and the pain turned to a low dull throb.

"I can't heal all of it." Tom whispered, and Rose flinched, realizing she had control of her body back, "But it's just badly bruised now."

"I-It hurt." Rose whispered.

Tom hissed, "She should never have laid hands on you. But we'll get our revenge."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to do magic in front her." Rose reached up and pushed the tears out of her eyes

She could almost feel Toms smile against her forehead, "Then don't let her know it's magic."

***

Rose played a silent war on Ellise after that.

It started at dinner. Rose did her prayers and silently ate her dinner. Trying to keep her smirk in place she reached out with her magic and rang the doorbell.

Ellise looked up from her own plate, then silently got up and wandered into the hall and down to the front door. She heard the door open, followed by a 'Hello?" After a few more moments Rose heard Ellise come back to the kitchen, grumbling about 'kids these days'.

Rose continued to eat her peas without question, waiting only two minutes before ringing it again.

And this continued for days. Every time Ellise sat down, rose would ring the doorbell with her magic. The woman grumbled and hissed and cursed the kids. She asked the neighbours if similar things were happening to them, but everyone replied in the negative.

Ellise must've figured the doorbell was faulty because she disconnected it after a few days.

The look on her face when Rose rang it again was priceless. All the blood drained from her face and her hands shook as she shot up from the couch, dropping her knitting she rushed over to the front door opening it and staring outside.

Tom was chuckling, and Rose couldn't help but giggle.

Ellise came back into the living room, narrowing her eyes at Rose, who looked the picture of innocence.

It took two weeks for the rest of her shoulder to heal. Ellise never said anything about it, like it had never happened. It made Rose even more bitter. She made all the food in the house go bad one night. They woke up to moldy fruit and bread, sour milk and curdled yogurt. The next day Ellise had people coming to inspect the house for mold, or contamination or anything that might explain how so much food went bad.

The second incident was a few weeks after the rotten food incident.

Ellise walked into her bedroom after school. Rose was doing a puzzle on her desk - a hundred piece one. It was harder than ones she normally did, but Tom was helping her.

"Have you finished your homework?"

Rose didn't even look up from her puzzle, "I only have one sheet of math questions, I'm going to do it after I'm done this puzzle."

Ellise was silent for a moment.

"I didn't ask you when you were doing your homework." Ellise said calmly, "I asked if you've done it?"

Rose tensed, not liking the tone. Tom had gone silent in her mind.

"Er...No."

"No?" Ellise tilted her head, "No, what?"

Rose furrowed her eyebrows, "No...Ma'am?"

Ellise nodded, then took a few steps forward and slapped Rose across the face.

Rose felt her head go to the side and didn't make a sound. Her cheek was stinging, but she refused to give her the satisfaction of her tears, and it didn't hurt nearly as much as the dislocated shoulder had. 

Ellise slapped her a second time.

"Dinner is in ten minutes." Ellise glared at her, "In the future I expect you to have finished your homework before dinner. Get washed up and do something about your hair."

Ellise stormed out of the room, and only once she was gone did Rose raise her hand to her face.

She narrowed her eyes at the door, hatred in her eyes.

There was no way she was going to let a muggle get away with hitting her.

***

She remembered some passages from the Bible about demons and witches. They stuck with her because they made her giggle. Muggles were so scared of what they didn't understand, and Tom had whispered that many of the supposed demons were probably just magical creatures that muggles had spotted.

The first thing Rose did was turn all the crucifixes in the house upside down. She did it as they left in the morning, so that when she came home from school Ellise couldn't place her for it. The woman had looked annoyed, but just just flipped them the right way, double checking all the hooks to make sure they were balanced right.

At dinner that night, while they were giving grace, Rose clenched her fists and all the power in the house went out.

"My goodness." Ellise jumped, clutched at her chest, "That startled me. Seems the breaker's gone again, give me a moment." She gave Rose a warning look, "Don't you dare touch any food until I return, we still have to finish grace."

Rose smirked to herself once she left.

"Be careful Briar." Tom whispered in her mind, "Muggles can lash out when frightened."

Rose tilted her head, thinking about Boris, who had been way bigger and stronger than Ellise, "I could take her."

She repeated it every day for a week. On Sunday, as they were leaving for church, Rose concentrated and twisted her wrist. In three places in the house, the religious pictures Ellise hung on the walls went up in flame. Rose extinguished the fire before they left the driveway, not wanting to burn the house down. Her stuff in was in there after all.

The woman had freaked after that, thinking that people were breaking into her home. But there was no forced entrance and the front door was locked.

She knew she was getting to the old lady when she started to burn sage, whispering cleansing prayers from her Bible as she wandered around the home.

Tom was wary, but she could feel his amusement through their bond. And whenever the woman passed their bedroom, waving her burning sage, he would chuckle.

"What an idiot." Tom said.

Rose shrugged, "She's a Muggle." She said, like that it explained it all. It did.

On the last day of school, Rose brought home her report card. She was very proud of herself. She'd gotten all As, except for Maths which she got a B+.

Tom was proud of her, and told her that they'd practice maths all summer. She didn't really wanna do maths in summer, but it she was doing it with Tom she didn't care much.

"Report card?" Ellise smiled when Rose held up the folder, smiling wide. Ellise took it and opened, reading over it. She looked very pleased, but then paused, tilting her head as she read over the words. "What happened in Maths?"

"Oh." Rose wrinkled her nose, "I have troubles with fractions and decimals."

"Why didn't you practice more?"

Rose had to force herself not to shrink back as Ellise got that dangerous tone again. She gritted her teeth as she glared, almost daring the woman in front of her to hurt her. To give her a reason....

"I...I did." Rose stood up straight, "Two hours every night. "

"Why not three hours?" Ellise closed the folder with a snap, "You obviously needed it."

Rose gritted her teeth, "I still had the second best grades in the class! Everyone has troubles with maths!"

Slap!

"Don't talk back to me young lady!" Ellise yelled at her, "You are grounded for the entire summer and let the Lord help you if you're grades don't improve."

"Screw your lord!" Rose hissed in her face.

Ellise's face went white with horror, and she held a hand to her chest, like Rose had physically struck her.

She reached forward and hit Rose so hard she sent the small child flying into the fall.

"How dare you, you....devil child!" Ellise hissed, "You dare take the Lords name in vain? You dare disrespect the Lord?"

Rose looked up from her place collapsed against the wall and glared with all her might at the old lady practically spitting at her.

Ellise recoiled and then hissed in pain, reaching up to hold her cheek. Rose smirked as she saw blood escaping through her fingers. The woman pulled her hand away from her face, his limbs shaking as she stared at the blood on her hands.

On her cheek were three claw marks, starting at her cheek bone and down to her chin.

Ellise looked at Rose, and for the first time there was fear in the woman's gaze.

As it should be.

"Go to your room!" The woman yelled, her voice shaking, "No supper! How dare- Straight to bed. Don't you dare come out."

Rose climbed to her feet, and without a look back, stormed into her bedroom.

***

"That was stupid."

"She hit me!" Rose snapped at Tom, growling as she paced back and forth in her bedroom. She was riled up and had been raging as thought about that horrid woman hitting her, yet again.

"Remember what I said!" Tom chided, "Muggles don't do well with fear."

"Then she'll get rid of me." Rose shrugged, "And we'll go back to the group home."

Tom sighed, "Just go to sleep Briar...we'll figure this out in the mourning."

But all morning would bring was a breaking point.

***

Rose woke up to er bedroom door opening.

The light from the hallway hit her in the way and she blinked wearily. Se lifted her head and blinked as she looked at the doorway, her eyes out of focus.

"Ellise?" Rose asked, frowning. She blinked, trying to figure out what she was seeing.

"No child." A man walked closer. He wore long clothes and for a moment Rose thought he might be a wizard. He looked like he was wearing the clothes Tom explained. 

"Who are you?" Rose mumbled, trying to sit up.

"It's okay." He held out his hands, smiling kindly. Now that he was closer Rose saw that he was a middle aged man, with thinning brown hair and wrinkled. His robes were bitch black, and he had a strange collar on his neck. He reached into his robe and pulled out a white handkerchief, "Here, wash your face child, you have saliva."

Rose winced. She must've drooled in her sleep. She didn't know exactly who the man was, but she took the handkerchief and wiped around her mouth and nose. There was a sweet smell on it and she lifted it to her nose to smell some more.

Her eyes started to get fuzzy and her mind felt numb.

"What....?" Rose frowned, "What's...

"It's okay, child." The man gave her a kind look, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pair of glasses, "I'm here to help."

The last thin Rose remembered before loosing consciousness was calling out for Tom.

***

She was tied to a chair.

Rose opened her eyes rapidly as looked down whimpering a she saw the leather straps keeping her tied to a simple leather chair. Another leather strapped was in her mouth, keeping her from talking.

She looked around. She was in a bathroom, sitting in front of a bathtub that was filled with water. She looked around and saw a plethora of candles, crucifixes and other religious crap that Ellise liked to keep around.

The man was standing near the sink, flipping through a leather bound book.

"Tom?" She called out desperately, "Tom what's happening?"

But he didn't respond.

"Our Father, who art in heaven.."

Rose jumped as the man started to speak. In the well lit bathroom she could now easily see that the man was a priest. He was standing near her and saying the lords prayer over her.

Was this her punishment? Being tied up and read the Bible? Well Rose certainly wasn't going to be staying here.

She reached for her magic, looking for just enough to break the leather straps.

And she hit a giant barrier.

She frowned, opening her eyes. What was that?

She reached into her mind again, but the same barrier was there. Like a giant, solid brick wall keeping her from getting her magic.  
"Tom!" She cried, fear filling her, "My Magic!"

Tears were filling her eyes, leaking over her cheeks and the leather strap. What was happening?

The priest finished speaking and walked over until he was standing next to her. A moment later he flicked water at her and she flinched at how cold it was.

"Hello Rose." He spoke quietly, "I was wondering if I could speak to your other occupant?"

Rose blinked at him. Did he man know about Tom? How the hell had he found out? She never spoke to him out loud or mentioned him to anyone. She hadn't in years. When she was younger they thought he was just an imaginary friend, but now she was too old for such things.

She closed her eyes and reached into her mind, "Tom, he knows about you."

But there was still no response.

She sobbed around the leather strap in her mouth. She looked at the priest and shook her head.

"No?" He frowned, "Hmm, Alright. Let's see if we can get them to come out and play, okay?"

Rose was confused, still not entirely sure what was happening. Did this man know about wizards? Did he know about Tom?

A thought filled her with horror. Was this man from the Ministry? Had he discovered Tom was hiding away inside her and had come in order to 'save' her from him, and kill the dark wizard inside of her?

Well that sure wasn't going to happen.

She reached inside for her magic again. She needed to do something. Knock the man out, untie herself, just break a god damned window! Anything!

But her magic wasn't working.

Had it vanished? Had this strange man taken her magic, and Tom with it. The thought of it filled her with horror and she felt for a moment like she had lost a limb, or a piece of her soul.

"Tom, please." She begged in her mind, "Please."

But there was nothing but a large brick wall, and silence.

The man walked over to her and placed a hand on her forehead. In his other hand he held a beaded necklace. He gripped a single bead and started to pray, "Hail Mary, full of grace.."

Rose wasn't sure what he was going, but it didn't hurt, so she just let him continue. He travelled from bead to bead, saying the same prayer over and over, broken by the occasional Lord's Prayer. 

It was obvious that the Priest was annoyed by the fact that nothing was happening. 

"Devious little bugger isn't he." The Priest acted friendly. Rose swallowed nervously. The priest looked at her sadly before he sighed, and closed his bible, gripping the beaded necklace firmly in one hand. "Well, there's nothing for it then."

He walked behind her chair. He put his hands on the back and started to push, moving the chair until it was right up against the edge of the bath. It was a deep bath, and sitting the edge of the tub came up to her stomach.

He reached down and undid the belts holding her to the back of the chair. She let out a breathe of relief as she leaned forward, but her hands her still tied behind her back.

"Tom, please. I'm scared." She whispered in her mind, "I'm scared, Tom."

But he didn't response. She just hoped he was okay, and that the mean man hadn't hurt him in any way.

"I'm sorry about this." The man whispered, seemingly talking to himself more than her, "But it'll be better after, I promise."

What? What was he planning?"

The priest came over to her, standing behind her and placing a hand on her back. He took several deep breathes and Rose stared at him with a furrowed brow, the straps on her mouth cutting into her cheeks as she struggled to breathe. 

"Father, please bless this child," The Priest started, "Help purge her of the evil that has overtaken her. Purge her of the powers of the devil that corrupt her."

Then he pushed on her back, pressing her entire upper body into the bath, forcing her head under water.

Rose screamed, water rushing into her mouth and she coughed as she struggled to breath. It stung her eyes and burned her skin with it's cold. As she struggled and screamed she realized there was ice in the bath, and the sharp edges cut her skin.

He pulled her back, and Rose screamed, her voice becoming audible. It was muffled by the belt in her mouth, but she pulled away, trying to get away from the man.

"Tom!' She sobbed, feeling all her anger leave way to horror and terror, "Tom please!"

"Cleanse her soul of the devils influence." The priest ignored her screams and struggles and sobs, but the hand holding his beaded necklace was shaking, "Help her fight against the evil!"

He pushed her again, she fought harder this time, not as surprised as she held er breathe before her face was plunged into the water.

She tried not to panic, her lungs burning for hair and she thought she might be crying but she couldn't feel her tears with all the water.

He pulled her back and Rose begged for the first tie in her life.

"Please, Stop." She cried, "Please."

"I'm sorry child, " The priest grabbed her long dark hair into his fist, "It's for the best."

She didn't know how long it lasted. Minutes, hours? She never stopped trying to pull for her magic, but no matter how much she struggled it never came to her.

"Tom..." She whispered, her voice barely there. "Please."

He was killing her. She was exhausted, and she felt like she would pass out soon. She would drown. A relatively painless way to die.

She tried everything. Snap the buckled, drain the water, rip the beating heart out of the man who kept pushing her, over and over into the water, whispering prayers and hymns and harmonies and all of the crap that she'd made fun of Ellise for.

She would kill him, and Ellise, as painfully as possible. She would cut his hands that held her underwater from his body. She would cut out his tongue so he could never pray again. She would strangle him with his beads..

She took in a gasp and water filled her lungs. He brought her up and barely gave her time to spit up the water before pushing her down again. Her eyes widened in panic. She couldn't breathe! More and more water poured into her mouth, filling her lungs. She struggled, coughing and sputtering, but the belt in her mouth kept the water lodged in her mouth.

Her vision was going black. She screamed and struggled and tried to get as much of the water from her lungs as possible.

"Please Tom. I'm dying..."

She thought she felt a tingle in the back of her mind, and a familiar pressure. But it didn't matter, because the priest pushed her once more into the water, and she felt herself stop struggling as her vision faded to black.

The last thing she heard was a loud bang! followed by shouting and yelling, before she felt herself slump over the side of the tub, falling unconscious.


End file.
